GOODBYE, DUMMY

from SS in NYC:

PATRICK McGOOHAN, RIP

BIG fan of The Prisoner. even got to spend the night at Portmeirion once - the actual Village in Wales where the series was shot. arrived late, couldn't find the office, so walked around the place in the growing darkness. turned a corner, and was almost eaten by two Rottweilers. found the office, checked in...and the next morning all the other Villagers kept asking us "were you the Yanks who came last night?"

creepy...how did they know?










a fabulous place. it's a proper British seaside resort, so they weren't too keen on the whole Prisoner business, tho there was a small shop (with requisite clerk/fan in black blazer with white piping & beige trousers) in the bungelow that served as the exterior for Number 6's house.

here's some gossip from Popbitch:

"Patrick McGoohan never got to make the film he wanted of The Prisoner. He was a keen poker player, and at one game in Vegas found himself holding three of a kind. Quietly confident, as everyone upped the ante, he chucked the rights to The Prisoner into the pot. Alas, someone else at the table had a straight flush. No-one expected the winning exec to actually take McGoohan's meal ticket off him. But to the disgust of the other players, he did just that."

be seeing you...

NP: Rejected first theme for the show:



sucks. compare it to the fab one that stuck:



Big Jim Sullivan on guitar? Jimmy Page? no...Vic Flick!

slammin'!!!

PEEVE DE JOUR: winter.

JOIE DE JOUR: waiting.

cb...where are you?






UPSTATE NEW YORK